Okay, this is not going to be pretty so brace yourself.
Last Saturday night (less than one week to go before finding out if this last cycle would be the one) I dreamt about a dragonfly. I don’t remember the specifics of the dream but I remember the absolute exact image of the dragonfly. I didn’t really think much of it until Sunday when Music Man and I were in the city hanging about because that’s what childless couples do on a Sunday. We haven’t yet progressed to the “going to the park” stage in our life. Anyway, about the dragonfly.
I was in a bookstore and was just about to purchase a book when I veered off to the “gift book” section of the store. For some reason I was drawn to pick up a book, I didn’t know what it was called or what it was about but it turned out it was called “Miracles” and on the front counter was a picture of a dragonfly. To be precise, it was said dragonfly that I dreamt about the night before. At that precise moment I genuinely and honestly thought it was a sign that I was pregnant.
I am fucking crazy.
Fast forward to two days ago and I was back in the city (work reasons not more shopping) and whilst waiting at an elevator there was a lady in front of me and on her back shoulder was a tattoo of a dragonfly.
Still crazy.
I haven’t had any actual pregnancy related symptoms (which during the 2ww is not that unusual) but in my heart I honestly thought that maybe this was it.
Turns out my intuition sucks.
AT 9.30am this morning I found out it was negative.
I had confided in a girlfriend about the dragonfly story and I just got a text from her telling me that the next dragonfly she sees is going to be a dead bug. Made me smile for the first time this morning.
How I’m capable of writing this so soon after getting this news is beyond me but it is definitely part of the coping mechanism. I have to be at work and I can tap away on my computer and pretend everything is okay and that the reason why I’m teary is because of this damn hayfever. It helps the half of the staff are away and Reception is screening my calls because I’m too busy (read – I don’t give a shit about anything and I don’t want to talk to anyone.)
On Monday night Music Man and I had a very open and frank discussion about this whole IVF thing and he asked me about whether I’d thought how long I could keep doing this. I was terrified he was worried about it all and was going to pull the plug on the whole thing. The thing about IVF is that it really is a numbers game and getting pregnant in your first go is very rare. I had only just spoken to someone a week ago who told me it took her six attempts before falling pregnant with twins. Realistically, the more you do it the greater the chance. Dr M has said to me all along – “right embryo, right day for you dear, that’s what this will come down to, I just keep having to drop embryos into you and one of them will stick”. This from a man who calls a spade a spade and doesn’t sugar coat shit is comforting. Going back to my chat with MM, I was worried he didn’t want to keep going and going. Turns out that my husband is the best man in the whole wide world because he said the opposite and that is – whatever it takes, we’ll just keep going. Right now I’m clinging to these words.
Soon after getting the results MM and I had a business consultant walk through the door for an impromptu meeting. Talk about keeping your shit together. I have just spent the last 30 minutes waffling my way through a meeting, wide eyed and still slightly in shock. I rambled on for fear that if I stopped talking then I would lose it altogether. It is highly likely that said consultant (who we were looking at appointing to do some work for us) is going to come back and say “sorry, can’t help you” because want she really means is “you seem very unhinged and I don’t think you are normal”.
I have since made another call back to Dr M’s office. When the results came through this morning the receptionist suggested that I make an appointment to see Dr M. When I rang back, I promptly burst into tears before making an appointment for next week. We chatted for a bit and she reminded me about the whole numbers game thing (I was never good at maths) and told me that they have one patient who has 3 children, all from IVF and only ever got one egg when she went to transfer and on many occasions the cycles didn’t work and it took her lots of attempts. It’s just how it goes. That is what will keep me going. That and an Island holiday that MM has booked for us at Christmas time. An email from mum reminded me of this also and suggested there would be wine and champagne and drinking to be had.
I simply don’t understand it. I get the science and that’s great because it is the science behind all of this that will make it work. What I don’t get is why doesn’t it just work now? What is it that I have to do/learn/feel/think/believe to make it just work now? Or am I putting too much thought into the reasons and lessons behind all of this and maybe I just need to stick to the science and that is play the waiting game – “right embryo, right day”.
At the moment this is all I can deal with right now. My emotional stability is changing by the second so god knows I will soon return with more news from the pity party that is currently underway at my desk.
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